


Case 221A: The Adventure Of Prince Charming (1914)

by Cerdic519



Series: Elementary 221B [295]
Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1910s, Alternate Universe - Detectives, Cuckolding, Destiel - Freeform, F/M, Family, Gay Sex, Johnlock - Freeform, Lawyers, London, M/M, Prostitution, Retirement, Romance, Supernatural Elements, Sussex, Trains, Untold Cases of Sherlock Holmes, World War I
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-11-26 04:45:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18176018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerdic519/pseuds/Cerdic519
Summary: ֍ The penultimate case of the dynamic duo and on the eve of war Sherlock's sort-of nephew asks him to break up a friend's marriage. As you do.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MelodyofWings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelodyofWings/gifts).



_Foreword: I remarked at one point in this case that Lord Trelawney Hawke looked very little like his elder twin brother Tobias, the latter being far more the atypical Hawke/Buckingham family member. I did not know then of course and was many – too many – years away from realizing just how right I was, and that this case had a more personal note than even I could have ever realized._

֍

_[Narration by Mr. Sherlock Holmes, Esquire]_

You wait all day for a 'bus, they say, then two come along at once. Such it was with our last two cases which came almost on top of each other as the Continent finally tumbled over the brink into war. And these cases could hardly have been more different; the first was a light-hearted family matter although important for those involved, while the second could well have affected the course of the forthcoming war itself.

I was more than happy with my life in those halcyon days, my Watson and our cottage on the Downs. But we knew that the shadow of war loomed over us; yesterday we had received the dreadful news that the heir to the Austro-Hungarian throne, Franz Ferdinand†, had been assassinated by a Serb 'patriot'. War between Austria and Serbia, a war that would likely drag in most of Europe, now looked inevitable.

Before quitting Baker Street we had made sure that only a trusted few friends and family knew of our new cottage's address. So when that September morning I heard the sound of someone knocking at the door and a familiar voice outside calling us I should not perhaps have been surprised – except if that was who I thought it was, he should have been well over a thousand miles away! Staggering to the window and peering out I saw that it was indeed the fellow in question.

“Tan?” I yawned, looking down at my nephew (I still thought of him as such even through there were no actual blood ties between us, and he had kept his last name he said to honour me and what he had called his 'inimitable mother of my mother's former husband'; he knew as well as I did how my mother would respond to anyone using the g-word about her. 

(I had said as much to John and the snarky bastard had quipped that it might even incite her to write a book about it. He was terrible especially when he knew the likelihood of his encountering my Mother's stories was low, especially after the idiotic Bacchus had again been caught out misbehaving and was now translating more of my Mother's works into German. That alone was probably enough to start this long-feared war!). 

A hawk-faced young fellow all too familiar to me stared up from the path, indisputably his real father's son even more than he had been when I had last seen him. He had filled out a little and become even more handsome but there was a frown on his face that did not bode well.

“I will wait”, he called up. “And please, can you and Uncle John make yourselves decent _before_ opening the door?”

I blushed. We were not _that_ bad!

“Love the view when you bend over in those panties!” John called from behind me.

All right, maybe my nephew had a point. And from the look of horror on his face he had heard that remark all too clearly – which bearing in mind how much of the world he himself had seen, that had to take some achieving!

֍

Tantalus was as has been said before the son of the satyric Prince (later King) Tane of Strafford Island, the latter recently having abdicated as leader of his little island kingdom in the Pacific in favour of his son Pale. The new king had a whole load of half-brothers and half-sisters in Great Britain and likely around the globe but Tantalus was a fine and upstanding young fellow who I was proud to have helped especially when it came to rescuing his mother Rachael from her most unwise first marriage to my eldest brother Mycroft. She had remarried to Mr. Blaze Trevelyan (elder brother of John's least favourite Cornish ex-fisherman whose letters to me did not make anyone growl angrily at all and which I did not encourage even if they always resulted in John taking me upstairs to restate his claim on me), and the couple had not ago retired to live in Norfolk. Lowen had even suggested that he and his lover Philip were thinking of retiring to the coast themselves some day soon, and I had got a very thorough fucking out of John as he had attempted to talk me out of suggesting how nice Sussex was. I somehow never quite got round to telling him they had already settled on Cornwall.

I was so bad to him. Oh well.

Not long before we had left Baker Street we had run across my nephew when his friend Sheikh Khalid of Arbir had 'hired' him as a stand-in (lie-in?) when it came to certain horizontal duties in his harem. Hence another Polynesian gentleman now had copious numbers of offspring – the sheikh's popularity had soared because of his apparent fecundity when it came to increasing his small nation's population – and Tantalus had later extended his 'activities' beyond the king's 'away harem' in England and travelled to Arbir to, ahem, spread it around. There had been no set date for his return but I had not expected him back any time soon. Yet now he was here at the cottage.

We made ourselves fairly decent and I only had to kiss John twice to stop him grumbling before we descended to let my nephew in. I should point out (because several of John's readers asked) that the cottage was unusual in that after the rebuilding we had ordered it now had two full-sized bedrooms, one upstairs and one down because.....

My nephew _did_ have a point, damn him!

“I have a problem”, Tantalus said sitting down as John went to make me coffee. “I need your help Uncle Sherlock.”

“How may we assist you?” I asked, smiling at the appellation.

“I need you to break up a marriage. Of someone you probably know.”

I looked at him in surprise. _What?_

֍

“As you know I went to Arbir with Cal some five years ago”, my nephew said sipping his coffee and still looking worried. “It all worked out very well; he had a lot of very satisfied wives, he and Elizabeth had four children of their own the eldest boy of whom will succeed him one day, and his other wives were all very happy with what they thought of as his, uh, performance. They called me something quite unpronounceable and Cal laughed when I told him because it actually meant 'he who waxes mightily'.”

Having seen my nephew in all his glory one day I knew that he could rival the great (in every sense!) Mr. Virbius Henriksen in one department. But it would be better not to mention that as it would doubtless make John feel..... John.

“I came back to England last month and went to see my parents in Norfolk”, the young fellow said. “Their new house in Caister is quite spectacular with its views. Blaze was looking particularly happy and sent his regards; he managed a whole two sentences at one point.”

I smiled at his gentle teasing of his silent stepfather. Then our visitor's expression changed slightly.

“There was some blockage or other on the main line so I had to take a train to Lowestoft and then on to Ipswich. It seemed a minor inconvenience except for one point where we got held at one station for an inordinate amount of time, long enough for us all to get out and stretch our legs. But when I was at Ipswich I found that someone had somehow managed to place a folded piece of paper in my pocket. Nothing had been taken which was also odd; I had several coins in there. The paper read 'save a second Hawke from crashing'.”

We both looked at him in confusion before John suddenly spoke up.

 _”Titanic!”_

Now it was Tantalus' and my turn to look confused.

“The maiden voyage was delayed because her sister ship the _'Olympic'_ was so badly damaged when she was rammed by the cruiser _'H.M.S. Hawke'_ ”, he explained. “One Hawke crashing. But what could the second one be unless the old ship is still under that half-blind captain?”‡

I winced as I got it. John sensed it at once.

“What is it?” he asked anxiously.

I looked across at my beloved John and smiled when he handed me my coffee. I smiled even more when, my having downed his first mug he had a second one ready. He was so good for me and even better, he knew when to be bad for me!

Tantalus was rolling his eyes for some strange reason.

“One of the families that we have had several dealings with over the years”, I smiled. “You mentioned that you were held for a long time at one station. Was it Darsham by any chance?”

He looked at me in amazement.

“Yes”, he said, “the station for Dunwich. How did you know that?”

I thought of my twin brother Jimmy. Clearly he had caused this but what did he want of me?

“What did you do?” I asked.

“I went to that lady you once told me about in London, Miss Bradbury”, he said. “I knew that she is retired but fortunately she has appointed someone to carry things on and they knew of my links to you.”

That person was I knew the prodigious Mr, Edward 'Ginger' Tudor, who had married my friend Benji's sister Ivy Jackson-Giles and had had some ten children thus far, an amazing eight of them sons. 'Ginger' had visited the cottage one time and John had most definitely not been jealous of his good looks or even my remarking on same. 

My backside winced at the memory of just how very jealous he had definitely not been!

“The fellow was very helpful and told me that it most likely referred to the Hawke family”, my nephew said, “with whom I know that you have had several dealings.”

“They do seem to be one of those plagued by ill-fortune”, I said. “Did she have any idea which of them might be about to 'crash'?”

Tantalus blushed for some reason. Curious.

“Mr. Tudor thought it would most likely be one of Lord Harry Hawke's twin sons”, he said. “Lord Tobias and Lord Trelawney, the only ones to have come of age as of yet.” 

“Did Middleton's have a file on those gentlemen?” I asked.

“They have files on everything!” my nephew shuddered. “Lord alone knows how but he asked me about the twin eunuchs back in Arbir!”

“If Mankind does ever get into space then doubtless Middleton's will be among the first to have spaceships up there watching people”, I grinned, enjoying his discomfiture rather. “Tell me about young the young Hawkes.”

There was the slightest hesitation before his answer.

“They are twenty-one years of age”, he said, “and fraternal rather than identical twins although having seen pictures they are quite similar. Lord Tobias, the heir, is still single although his name has been linked with one Miss Beatrice Hallows, while Lord Trelawney is married to a woman called Miss Samantha Bexley.”

“Is that Lord Bexley's niece?” John asked. “The daughter of Mr. Aiden Bexley?”

“It is”, my nephew said. “Do you know of her?”

“I only know of her father”, John said. “In one scandal after another; his elder brother Lord Bexley cut him off after the last one two years back when he got involved in a duel. Unfortunately the other fellow failed to hit him because he ran away during the count, worse luck. You did not mention Lord Trelawney's sons?”

“It is so fortunate that John still never reads the social pages”, I teased, enjoying the inevitable pout that..... no, not just yet.

“The new Mrs. Hawke is very like her father then”, my nephew said shaking his head at me for some reason. “She has had two sons but I am sure that neither of them are poor Trey's.”

I looked at him curiously. He looked back in surprise. The clock ticked loudly in the corner of the room.

“Why do you call him 'Trey' rather than 'Lord Trelawney'?” I asked innocently. 

It was a cruel question for I already knew the answer, even before my nephew's fierce blush confirmed it.

“I, uh, went down to Brunton Hall”, he admitted, seemingly finding our hearth-rug deeply fascinating. “I explained that I was your nephew so that got me in. Trey was....”

He stopped seemingly lost for words. 

“Beautiful”, he said at last. “Not just physically but in the light within. I may have only managed three decades in this world of ours but I have seen far too much evil in the world, often from those with a plausible shell of goodness. In that picture of him and his brother they both just.... shone.”

John sniffed. He was obviously getting a cold again. So was I.

“What you are asking therefore is that we find a way to break up this gentleman's marriage?” I asked.

“The marriage is already broken”, my nephew said. “I spoke to some of the servants – they adore him and utterly loathe her – and they said that they thought that he was beginning to suspect. Bert – Mr. Hebden the valet – has been with the family all his life and he is afraid that the strain will prove too much for him, just like happened before.”

“Then we must move fast”, I said determinedly. “Can you find a pretext to take him somewhere away from Collingbourne Kingston for the day, to Marlborough maybe?”

“I can”, he said, “but what of it?”

“Because we are going to make his wife sue for a divorce!”

He nodded at that, then suddenly turned pale. I wondered why before I realized. 

Oh yes. He was looking at the mounted St. George's Flag panties (remnants thereof) with the plaque below stating 'John Watson, New Year's Day 1907'. Oops!

“You two!” he grumbled.

I sniggered. Wait until I showed him around and he saw the other pairs!

֍


	2. Chapter 2

“There is one thing he does not know”, John said to me as we stood on the northbound platform of an otherwise deserted Collingbourne Kingston Station in Wiltshire, awaiting the arrival of Lord Trelawney.

It was two days later, and even I had been impressed with the speed with which things had fallen into place. Perhaps now that I was not endangering myself on a regular basis my guardian angel had more time for helping me in such matters.

“Something that you garnered from those social pages that you never read?” I teased gently.

He pouted in a way that had me more than half-minded to drag him into the waiting-room and have my way with him, but unfortunately our quarry was expected any minute.

“No”, he said. “I mentioned the name to my friend Peter and he told me something in confidence, but said I might tell you.”

“What?” I asked.

“A friend of his is the doctor to Miss Hallows”, he said, “the lady who may one day marry Lord Tobias Hawke, Lord Trelawney's elder brother and heir to the Hawke estates. Geoff called Peter in to confirm a diagnosis for him; Miss Hallows can never have children.”

I saw his point at once. That sort of thing was bound to become public knowledge if Miss Hallows actually married Lord Hawke, and it would mean his brother – and worse, the harridan he was currently married to – the next in line. Of course as they were twins the odds on his ever getting the title were fifty-fifty, but it had to be considered.

“So what are we planning?” John asked.

“Mrs. Hawke will likely remain married to her poor husband until she finds something better or he divorces her”, I explained. “The latter is fraught with social problems but she may be persuaded to sue for a divorce herself if she thinks she would win a large cash settlement from it, either as a pay-off or through the courts. A sizeable enough large divorce settlement would offer her the chance to marry some other poor su.... husband who might therefore overlook her many failings.”

John smiled at my verbal non-trip.

“This morning a latter arrived at the Hall for Lord Trelawney confirming that his travelling companion for their day in London has managed to get him into the most exclusive molly-house that our capital city can boast, and that all sorts of 'delights' are going to be laid on”, I said. “Mr. Hebden has agreed to 'accidentally' place it in her pile of letters, helped by the fact that the poor wording on the envelope makes the 'Mr. T.' look like 'Mrs.'. She will see this as an opportunity to catch her husband in the act so to speak, no doubt with her London lawyer present. That she employs the 'services' of Mr. Terence May does not surprise me in the least; birds of a feather do indeed flock together.”

A gentleman emerged on to the platform and I only narrowly managed to avoid staring in surprise. I had seen a picture of Lord Tobias who was very much the atypical Hawke and much like his father Lord Harry, but the latter's second son looked more..... well, like my offspring, right down to the perhaps slightly erratic hair and less than pristine appearance. Given that he was much the same height as Tantalus he could not have been much taller than me, although he carried himself as a tall man.

We moved away from my nephew and watched them greet each other.

“But how will she be able to follow them to London if they are only going to Marlborough?” John asked.

“All things are possible if one tries hard enough”, I grinned. “And talking of hard, let us look forward to this evening and that new unguent that came down from London the other day.”

He blushed prettily and I saw the distant smoke of the approaching train. I worried for a few moments but then I saw a carriage turning into the station forecourt. Tantalus had led Lord Trelawney further up the platform so that he would not see it. The train duly arrived and we got on. 

Just as the guard was ready to depart a sharp-faced woman in a black dress hurried out of the ticket-office and boarded a coach at the back of the train. Third-class I noted, even if her dress very clearly denoted first. I smiled and sat back, thinking it a pity we had no time for.... that.

Definitely later!

֍

After a short journey we reached Savernake (High Level) Station where I gestured to John that we should get out.

“Is Mr. Buckingham not going to Marlborough after all?” John asked.

“Watch!” I grinned.

We looked as two familiar figures got out of the front of the train and hurried away down the lane that led the short distance to the Low Level Station on the Great Western line to London. Moments later the woman from earlier followed them.

“Two actor friends of mine”, I grinned. “Mr. Hebden was particularly obliging in supplying me details of Lord Trelawney's favourite coat which, fortunately, is quite distinctive.”

“Like yours”, John smiled.

“You will not be saying that tonight when I will be fucking you wearing only the coat”, I said amiably.

The ability to leave him spluttering as I walked away. Still as enjoyable as ever!

֍

We made the train to Paddington in good time and fortunately the woman did not try to get closer to her quarry.

“How will she be able to both get her lawyer and keep track of them once we reach London?” John asked.

“Most obligingly her letter this morning gave precise details of Lowen's molly-house”, I grinned. “He is waiting there with a dozen of his 'boys', several doses of chloroform and a photographer renowned for being able to develop his work very quickly. We shall be able to confront the woman with evidence of exactly what she was hoping to accuse her husband of doing, visiting a molly-house – and with rather more besides!”

He looked at me in confusion. I was going to have a lot of sexual frustration to work off later if he kept that up. Good!

֍


	3. Chapter 3

Six hours later we were sat in a small London hotel facing two of the least pleasant people it has ever been my displeasure to have to breathe the same air as. Mrs. Samantha Hawke was a blonde female of about thirty years of age, whose permanent sneer had wrecked what little beauty she may once have possessed. And Mr. May may have been a decade older and with less make-up (although incredibly he did have a gold-ear-ring!) but he was pretty much a male version of the same. They stared at the copies of the photographs I had shown them in stony silence.

“A court will not admit these as evidence”, the lawyer said but I could hear the uncertainty in his words.

“The _'Times'_ newspaper would”, I said. “There are many scandal magazines who would pay a king's ransom for these, or for the testimony of the gentleman next to you holding that celery stick. Then there is Lady Soper, who might not be best pleased at the pictures of the female here entering her house while she was away and leaving at a somewhat irregular hour. And of course your own clients might be more than a little interested....”

“That is blackmail!” he protested hotly.

“That is business”, I said. “These documents state that this woman is seeking a divorce from her husband and does not expect anything except custody of her two children.”

“Plus money for them!” the woman said quickly.

I looked at her and smiled.

“My friends can get access to all sorts of things”, I said. “For example, they recently gained access to some blood test results of _yours_ , madam.”

“So?” she said archly.

“So indeed”, I said. “You are doubtless not aware of it but scientists have recently established a new understanding of the constituents of human blood. In particular they have found three such which are extremely important, especially if they ever develop the ability to give people blood to replace losses during accidents, say. The key fact is that these constituents are hereditary, so while this new understanding cannot prove things it can _dis_ prove them.”

“I do not understand”, she said looking bored.

“You had better”, I said. “Both your children have factor C in their blood – that is on file – but neither you nor Lord Trelawney has it; we had his blood tested yesterday. Therefore those children must be the result of affairs between you and one – or more – men who _do_ have that in their blood. There is no other way it could have come about, and as the children are not Lord Trelawney's blood he will not be paying a penny towards them.”

She looked at me as if she wanted to hit me. I really hoped that she tried. John would take her down in a flash.

“Your soon to be ex-husband is a decent gentleman”, I said, “unlike _some_ people that I could mention” (I glanced at the scowling lawyer before continuing). “You will sign this and revoke all claims on him, and I will ensure that the courts grant a decree _nisi_ in short order. You will move out of the Hall tonight; do not take more than one handbag or these pictures – _all_ of them – will be the talk of London tomorrow. I do not doubt that a true gentleman like Lord Trelawney will eventually make some sort of financial settlement on you little though you deserve it but that is totally of his own choosing. Sign, please.”

She glared at me again but signed without even reading the papers. The lawyer looked as if he might object but a look from me stopped him, and he slunk out after his horrible client.

֍

I decided that I wished to give Lord Trelawney the good news myself that evening even if it meant a night in Wiltshire before we could return to our cottage and all that long-delayed sex (I did define it as long-delayed because). It also meant we could travel back down on the same train as the soon to be ex-Mrs. Hawke and make sure she did keep to her side of the bargain, which luckily for her she did. I was sure that she had all sorts of jewellery and expensive things in her bag which she ordered to be taken out to her carriage, and fortunately she did not check and therefore spot the identical one that I had had the servants substitute for it. If she wanted to carry an old brick wrapped in dirty sheets all the way to London, let her. 

As the minutes ticked by however I began to wonder what was keeping my nephew and his friend. Mr. Hebden came in and kindly said that he would make rooms up for us in the west wing rather than having to go back into the village to the tavern there. Finally when it was nearly half-past nine the two wanderers returned... oh.

I did not even need to hear the little cries of pain at every step. I did not even need to see the hickey that could probably be spotted from the surface of the Moon, lurking above Lord Trelawney's skew-whiff collar, nor the tattered clothes, nor the expression that told me here was a man who had little left in the tank. And my nephew's expression was a smugness level that even I would have been proud of. We might be blood after all!

What was left of young Lord Trelawney Hawke limped over to his chair and smiled gratefully at his friend who helped lower him, even if he did yelp once he was down. He glazed unfocussedly at me before pulling himself together.

“All.... well?” he managed. Even his voice was broken.

“All is well”, I smiled. “Your staff have very generously made us up rooms for the night so we will fill you in on all the details tomorrow morning.”

“I shall fill him in _long_ before that!” Tantalus grinned. “Come on, Trey. There is a comfortable bed up there with your name on it.”

Lord Trevelyan looked at him gratefully.

“And mine too, now!” my nephew grinned.

The gratefulness metamorphosed into sheer unadulterated terror. Tantalus hoisted the fellow to his feet, swept him into his strong arms and carried him to the doorway.

“Welcome to the family, my lord!” I called out.

“He will be coming very well!” my nephew growled. “We will see you tomorrow – _probably!”_

And they were gone. I chuckled after them.

“It does mean another night away from the cottage”, John sighed. “And that new unguent.”

I grinned and stood up. 

“Useful things, doctor's bags”, I grinned. “One can pack all sorts of things into them!”

It was not only Lord Trelawney Hawke who was in for a rough night!

֍

_Postscriptum: Thanks to the wonders of the modern telegraphic system, my nephew and his lover received an unexpected present to mark their union from the former's previous 'employer' the following month. Sheikh Khalid wrote that he understood both the importance of appearances and the difficulties in obtaining reliable servants – so he had dispatched the two giant eunuchs who my randy nephew had somehow found the time and energy for while in Arbir! I suggested inviting Bill and Ben the next time my nephew visited us, and John gave me such a look!_

֍

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> † Franz Ferdinand (1863-1914) had been Duke of Austria and heir presumptive of his uncle the elderly Austro-Hungarian Emperor Franz Joseph (1830-1916). The duke had had a great fondness for hunting; ironically he had nearly been killed the year before when during a visit to England a gun had exploded and only narrowly missed him.  
> ‡ Captain William Frederick Blunt (1870-1928). 'H.M.S. Hawke' was his eleventh command; he was transferred just three months after the Olympic incident for which he had been very clearly to blame. The Royal Navy waited three years after his retirement in 1919 before 'promoting' him to Rear-Admiral.


End file.
